Albus Severus Potter & The Strange Teacher
by Aditer
Summary: <html><head></head>Albus Severus Potter is finally a first year at Hogwarts, and his biggest problem is his horribly mean older brother, James, who teases him mercilessly without end. Little does Albus know that there are colossal problems to come!</html>
1. Prologue

Prologue

The man's footsteps were silent, like those of a cat's. He walked with long, purposeful, fast-paced strides that befitted his tall, lean figure. The air was crisp; the cold was biting, but the man did not shiver. His features were hidden underneath a hood, and his cloak billowed quietly behind him as he navigated skillfully through a thick maze of trees.

Almost as if by magic, he pushed apart two uncharacteristically thin trees, revealing a gigantic, moonlit clearing, filled with people. He stepped through, and a sudden, deathly quiet hush fell over the crowd, as if a cloak had fallen over them, eliminating all sound.

The man ignored the curious stares and climbed up onto a flat, plateau-like rock that was elevated above the land like a stage. He was the alpha male and they were the wolf pack. Without pulling back his hood, he began to speak.

"My wizards and witches, it is with great satisfaction that I gather you here. I have discovered that all is not lost. The Dark Lord may be dead, but we will carry out his wishes. We will complete what he never had the chance to complete. And the world will know that his ashes live on."

If the crowd was curious as to the man's identity, they did not show it. Rather, they seemed somewhat afraid of crossing this man.

"Hail!" the crowd murmured as one. They formed a line, single file, in front of the speaker. Then, one by one, he touched the tip of his wand to their upper left arm and uttered a soft spell, causing each person to shriek with pain.

The hooded man then took a few steps back, tucking his wand into his robes, shrewd, cold gray eyes sweeping the crowd. His sharp vision caught a wizard moving away from the rest of the crowd. Instantly his mental radar locked, and he whipped out his wand. There was a flash of green light, and instantly the wizard lay dead on the ground. He had paid dearly for his mistake.

The man then produced a stone, black with a large crack down the middle, and stroked it gently. He seemed to be lost in his own world, forgetting about the wizards who were watching him in awe. Then suddenly, he seemed to snap to reality. He turned once again to the assembly of wizards standing in front of him. "You may leave. But do not forget what happens to those who are unfaithful."

The crowd's silence grew to a murmur, and then to a rumble that sounded like thunder as they dispersed. Alone, the man threw back his hood, revealing his pale skin; stretched tightly over his bones, and began to pace up and down. His dark hair blew slightly in the breeze. The moon cast a bright light onto his handsome, angular face.

"It is time to take action," he muttered to himself. He then strode over to a large tree, and, with his wand, drew a strange pattern on the tree. It shifted away from its spot, revealing a round wooden door, which the man opened. He lifted out a creature that was no more than a lump of flesh with weak arms and legs, like a baby. Its face, if it could be called that, was snakelike and flat.

"They will pay, pay for ever believing that you could die," he said. He laughed, an unearthly sound, terrible and great. The baby seemed to quiver with excitement. "My dear father," he whispered to it, almost lovingly. "Soon you will be reunited with your son."

The baby said nothing, only flailed its arms pitifully.

"And when we rise together, my name will be as well-known and feared as yours, father. The last thing these Muggles and Mudbloods will know is how cruel I can be!"


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: AsumeKona: thanks for the review and feedback! and actually, it isn't malfoy, he's involved in this story in a different way that you might think! hope you like it :)

Chapter 1: Diagon Alley

Albus Severus Potter looked exactly like his father. He had the same jet-black hair, the same almond-shaped, bottle-green eyes framed by round glasses; he was identical to Harry Potter, in fact, right down to his wiry build.

He tried to be a good son. He really did. But he somehow always managed to get into trouble, one way or the other. It wasn't his fault that the Muggle neighbour's dog ate a Puking Pastille. It had been a stupid dog anyways; all it ever did was eat and sleep and try to kill Albus. It wasn't his fault that he had accidentally turned James' hair into a bunch of squiggly worms—he didn't even have a wand, he told his parents, so how could he have done it?

Albus was miserable. Eleven years of getting into trouble and getting made fun of by his brother and being outshone at activities by his sister. Eleven torturous years.

"Well no more," said Albus angrily to his reflection in the mirror. "I'm not taking any more crap from _anyone_."

"Ha!" said James, peeping in at Albus' door. "You're gonna get into Slytherin, I can tell."

"Oh really? I bet you had to bribe the teachers to put you in Gryffindor."

"The teachers don't choose your house, you idiot."

"You never told me who does choose your house."

"You never asked."

"Yes I did! What a liar! I asked you—"Albus was interrupted by the arrival of his mother, Ginny Potter.

"Boys!" exclaimed his mother. "Cut it out!"

"Mom, James says I'm going to Slytherin!"

"You know better than to take him seriously, Albus," she said calmly. "Now get in the car. You and James will go with your father."

"We're _leaving_?" asked Albus. "Where?"

"Hurry up." Albus' mother left the room.

"Where are we going, James?"

"Shut up, just get in the car!"

Albus trudged down the steps after James.

James slipped into the car, followed by Albus.

Albus stared moodily out the car window for the rest of the trip, wondering how it would be to have no brothers or sisters. He almost wished he had grown up like his father, famous Harry Potter; without being surrounded by people who were constantly better than him.

There was a tiny beetle crawling on the outside lining of the window. Albus studied it, his nose pressing into the glass and his eyes crossing just a bit. That beetle was probably happier than he was.

Half an hour later, the tiny, aging pub, invisible to Muggles, known as the Leaky Cauldron, came into view. Albus watched his father nod towards Tom the barman. He then walked out the back door. James followed, and Albus had gotten about halfway there when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw a tall man in a thick coat, with a hat that shadowed his eyes.

"Yeah?" he snapped.

"Albus, are you?"

"That's none of your—"

The man interrupted him with a strong hand over Albus' mouth. "You're coming with me."

"Dad!" Albus tried to cry, but his dad and James had already disappeared through the door. The man took his hand off of Albus' mouth. Immediately, Albus opened his mouth to yell but the man gave him a threatening look.

"One word and you'll never see daylight again."

The man began walking down a hallway, and judging by the vicelike grip that he had on Albus' upper arm, Albus has no choice but to follow. He looked around in order to make some signal for help. To his surprise, no one seemed to even notice. Everyone seemed frozen.

"Why can't anyone see us?" Albus asked under his breath.

"I'm invisible. I have contact with you, therefore you are invisible."

"But I saw you!"

"Shhhh," growled the man, tightening his hold on Albus' arm.

"Sorry…I mean, I saw you," said Albus, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"You're different, boy, haven't you noticed?"

"Different? What d'you mean? Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Where are you taking me?"

"One question at a time! I don't know if it's good or bad, I'm not a fortune teller! I'm just the timekeeper!"

"Timekeeper?" said Albus. "What's that?"

"Hang on," muttered the man, turning into a medium-sized room bursting with sunlight. Albus followed him in. "All right. We don't have much time."

"Who are you?"

"I am the Timekeeper."

"Yeah, but what do you do? What is your occupation?"

"I regulate time. But I have you here for a different reason. I am here to deliver to you a message."

"A message?" asked Albus.

"Hush!" said the Timekeeper. He closed his eyes and thought for a second. When his eyes opened, they were pure white and glassy. "_Albus Severus Potter, second son of Harry Potter,_" he began, and his voice was eerie. "_you must disprove that which has already been proven._"

There was silence.

"Er…is there any more?" asked Albus.

"Go!" growled the Timekeeper suddenly. "Leave! You have under 20 seconds!"

"Wh—what?"

"Run‼"

Albus sprinted out of the room and past all the frozen people until he reached the doorway. He stopped for a couple of seconds to catch his breath, wondering why the room was deathly silent. He looked around. Suddenly, as if a switch had been activated, everyone began to move around as if nothing had happened. A few people waved to Albus. Slightly confused, Albus turned and slipped through the back door to find his father and James waiting for him.

"Sorry," panted Albus, "this man called me to deliver a message or something—"

"What are you talking about?" asked James.

"Did you—I just disappeared for five minutes!"

"I saw you just thirty seconds ago! Stop making up stories!"

Mr. Potter tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Are you feeling all right, Al?"

"Yeah…yeah, I'm fine," mumbled Albus, now certain that he was going mad.

Their father tapped a brick above the trashcan, and one by one the bricks shifted to form an arch. Albus' breath caught in his throat as he had his first glimpse into a complex that was colourful, noisy, and bursting with life.

"Diagon Alley," said his father.

"We have to go to Gringotts first, don't we, dad?" asked James. Their dad nodded. They started walking toward a marble building in the distance. The building was white, but it was far from cheerful: Albus was slightly intimidated by its imposing shadow. As they walked in, Albus noticed that everything was sparkling clean; floor polished to perfection, windows almost invisible, walls white as snow.

As the three reached the counter, Albus felt a jolt of surprise. James hadn't told him that goblins ran Gringotts.

"Your key, sir?" asked the goblin at the counter, peering down at them from behind his tiny glasses.

Mr. Potter pulled a silver key out of his pocket and handed it to the goblin. "Vault 687."

The goblin examined the key, nodded, and motioned to another goblin in the corner. "Follow him," he said, handing back the key. They followed the goblin down a sloping hallway until they reached a huge cave. The goblin snapped his fingers, and a cart came rattling towards them. Albus followed the goblin into the cart, and after a few seconds, so did James and Mr. Potter.

"Are there seatbelts _this_ time?" asked James.

"No seatbelts," said the goblin, smiling a rather nasty smile.

The cart set off at breakneck speed, passing turns and vaults and dragons and other goblins. At some point, the cart stopped to let another one pass, and Albus took a moment to glance at James, who looked rather green. Surprised, Albus realized he himself was enjoying the ride. He'd always loved rollercoasters.

After collecting their money, they went from store to store, consulting the list James and Albus had received days before.

They first visited Madame Malkin's store; buying black school robes. Then they entered Flourish and Botts, where they bought the following books:

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 _by Miranda Goshawk

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ by Miranda Goshawk [for James]

_A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot

_Dark Arts: Seductive, Surprising, and Sweet_ by Pravus Sanguis

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch

_A Study of Mudbloods _by Dolores Umbridge

_Magical Theory _by Aldabert Waffling

_Magical Drafts and Potions _by Arsenius Jigger

_Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard

"That's strange," said James, looking at his father. "Why do they have a book about the Dark Arts? And 'Mudblood''s a bad word!"

A shadow passed over their father's face. "What are they thinking?" he muttered.

"What's wrong, Dad?" asked Albus. "Why'd they pick such weird books?"

"I'm sure the Professor will have had his reasons," replied his dad. "I'll write to McGonagall." He muttered something that sounded like "_Umbridge…crazy…_" They purchased their books and continued out of the store to Eeylops Owl Emporium.

"Albus," began his father, "How would you like an owl?"

"He doesn't need an owl," James interrupted. "He can use mine."

"James, while I'm sure your intentions are…generous—I hope—I think Albus has the right to his own owl."

Sticking his tongue out at James, Albus stepped into the store with anticipation written all over his face. His eyes immediately fell on a cage that seemed to be empty. Intrigued, he took a few steps closer, and then he realized that the cage wasn't empty: it had an owl in it. The owl was jet-black, like his own hair. The own, which had been staring at the entrance for a while, turned its head to look at him. Its eyes seemed to bore a hole in his.

"Dad," he said quietly. "Dad, can I have her?" His father smiled, and within minutes, they had paid and exited the shop.

"Why'd you choose a black one, Albus?" James asked. "Black owls are so ugly."

"She's not ugly!" cried Albus.

"Al, he was just asking a question," said his father. "Why don't you just explain why you chose her?"

"I don't know," replied Albus truthfully. "I just…I like her."

James made a face at him. Next, they arrived at the apothecary's, which was smelly, but very interesting. The shelves were lined with jars and bottles with very interesting labels, like Pickled Newt's Eyes and Roasted Puffskein Tongues. Albus couldn't stop looking at everything.

"Come _on_, Albus," James said, pulling him out of the shop after they had paid. "Your eyes are bugging out."

They walked around for a while, then Albus realized he was starving. "Can we have ice cream, dad?" he asked, noticing a shop entitled "Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour".

They sat down at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. James went up to order his ice cream.

"He was a good man, Florean," said Mr. Potter quietly to Albus. "I remember, he used to help me out with my homework and give me free ice-cream sundaes."

They were silent for a while, and then Albus asked, "What do you mean, 'was' a good man?"

"He's dead," said his father.

Albus was at a loss for words. He had never heard his father talk about his fighting experiences, though the kids had begged him innumerable times.

"Dead," Albus whispered. And then, more loudly, "What happened to him?"

"He was kidnapped and then murdered by Voldemort's Death Eaters."

"Dad!" interrupted James loudly, having returned from the ice cream counter. "Look, over there, the advertisement says _Mandrakes and Inferi 2_ is out! I already beat the first one. Can we get it? PLEASE? What were you guys talking about, anyways?"

"Never mind," said their father quickly. "Albus, do you want an ice cream?" There was an uneasy feeling in Albus' stomach now; while seconds ago, he had been ravenously hungry; now, he seemed to have lost his appetite.

"No," he mumbled. He noticed that his father did not buy an ice cream either.

"To Ollivander's, then," said his dad.

"Dad, will you buy me another ice cream?" cried James. He had polished off the first. "They've got a new flavour, and it's supposed to make your tongue fall out. Albus can get his wand on his own, right?"

"Albus, is that all right with you?" asked his father, handing James a couple of Galleons.

"Yeah, whatever," mumbled Albus, still feeling queasy. He broke into a brisk walk towards Ollivander's, the wand store. As soon as he opened the door, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. This place seemed to be full of a tingly magic. Since the store was empty, Albus took a seat on a rickety chair. He looked around, marveling at the rows and rows of boxes.

"Mister Potter," said a quavery voice, and Albus gave a violent start. Then he noticed a man who had previously been in the shadows. He was tall, thin, with white hair and silvery eyes. A bit creepy, really. "I still remember the day I met your father. Twenty-four years ago. 11-and-a-half inches, holly. Phoenix feather core."

Albus could not think of anything to say, so he just said, "Er."

"Here, try this wand." The man, who Albus assumed was Ollivander himself, held out a wand.

Albus held it, feeling silly. "Well, give it a wave!" exclaimed Ollivander. Albus waved it, and it shot red sparks at a vase nearby. The vase crashed, splintering into a thousand tiny pieces. "No…not quite…" muttered Ollivander. He fished out a box and pulled out the wand. "Try this. Mahogany, unicorn tail hair." Albus took the wand and waved it. It flew out of his hand and hit Ollivander on the forehead, causing a purple boil to spring up. "Absolutely not!" cried Ollivander, waving the wand and making the boil disappear. He pulled out another wand, which produced similar results. After several more wands failed, and the shop fell into further disrepair, Albus frowned. Wand after wand Albus tried, and as the pile of tried wands grew larger, so did Albus' doubt. _What if I'm not really a wizard? What if there's no wand for me? What if…_

His train of thoughts was interrupted by the arrival of his father. He supposed he had been in the shop so long that his father had started to worry.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," said Ollivander, and he actually gave him a small smile.

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander," said his father, nodding respectfully. Then he turned to Albus. "What's wrong? Why is it taking so long?"

"Ever wand I try…it doesn't…it won't…" Albus trailed off, looking helplessly at Ollivander.

Mr. Potter surveyed his son's face carefully in the dim light, his eyes flickering to the huge pile of wands and then back to Albus. Then, he pulled out his own wand and handed it to his son. "Try this. It hasn't worked properly for me since…"

_Since what?_ Albus wanted to ask. Now extremely embarrassed, he wrapped his fingers around the slim wand. A sudden, warm, pleasant wind whipped through him, and when he waved the wand, it sent out a bunch of silver sparks. Albus felt like he could sing. Finally, here was a wand that actually worked for him. He didn't notice the two men giving him curious stares until he looked up.

"I suppose you don't need to pay, then," said Ollivander finally. "How strange, however, that the wand that shares a—"

"Thank you, sir," interrupted his father. "Al…" Albus stepped forward and pulled five Galleons out of his pocket and put them on the counter.

Ignoring Ollivander's protests, he said firmly, "Thanks for putting up with me; that's a large pile of wands." His father smiled.

As they walked out the store towards James, who was waiting for them, Albus said to his father, "What will you do without a wand?"

"Oh, I have one," replied his father. "That's not the problem, really. Let's not talk about this right now, okay?" Albus nodded and slipped into the car next to James, and they drove off home.


End file.
